Stay till the Darkness Leaves
by faith2727
Summary: Sometimes Damon manages to break through, and when he does, his thoughts inevitably turn to her. Tonight's no different. A season 8-centric one-shot. D/E


**Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.  
**

 **Title courtesy of Kelly Clarkson's "Irvine."**

 **I took a brief break from BTFUTMK to work on this little one-shot (If you're reading the other story, don't worry. The next chapter will be ready soon. ;)), which was inspired by the amazing season 8 headcanon Caro (_LightToMyDark) posted on Twitter:**

The entity makes him kill during the day. And during the night, Damon takes over for a bit...

 **It's the perfect prompt for an angsty, dark glimpse into Damon's thoughts as he struggles against the clutches of a mysterious evil.**

 **Rated M for language.**

 **Thanks to Caro for providing the inspiration for this story! xo Hope I do it justice!**

 **Reviews are always appreciated. :)**

* * *

Blood. So much fucking blood.

I can smell it even before my eyes snap open, and I struggle to sit up, palms scraping against cracked asphalt.

It's everywhere.

On my jeans. Coating my hands. Smeared down the front of my shirt. My jacket.

 _Christ_.

Panic kicks in, the way it usually does in those first minutes after I manage to slip free of the puppet mistress's control. The strings are never severed, though. They've just gone slack.

Temporarily.

I glance around, taking note of the backwoods scenery, the empty road, and the fact that I'm currently sprawled in the middle of it. Typical. She likes to use my old habits to her advantage. Requires less reprogramming.

Confused as to why my mind chose this moment to break out of its cage mid-hunt, I focus a little closer on my surroundings.

The stars above. The forest.

The road.

 _So, what do you want?_

Her voice drifts through my head, soft as a prayer, soothing as a lullaby. My shelter, my solace, my lifeline.

 _Elena_.

So different from the bitch's constant loop of whispered commands, her words picking apart my brain, deconstructing me from the inside out.

My heart pounds harder in response, sending all that borrowed blood coursing through my veins, replenishing organs, tissues, and bones that should've turned to dust ages ago.

 _Tell me, Damon. I can see it all over your face. How bad is it?_

"You have no idea, baby," I mutter out loud. For once, I'm glad no one is around to hear me. They'd think I was deranged. Maybe I am. Hell, I certainly look the part.

 _Are you ready for this?_

 _I don't know what I want._

My memories start to go haywire, too many of them blending and cramming together all at once, like a crowd of people trying to squeeze into an elevator until its alarm screams out a warning.

Overcapacity.

I shake my head to clear the distorted recollections. _Please don't let them be fucked up now_ , I silently beg. _They're all I have_.

Scrambling to my feet, I dash out of the road and into the tree line, bracing myself against a huge pine. I drag in lungful after lungful of fresh air as I try to ignore the overwhelming scent of blood that sticks to me like a second skin. I strip off my jacket and toss it aside, then I lean back against the towering tree, letting the rough bark dig into my back.

My gaze lands on the deserted road and the twin gory handprints I left behind just this side of the center line. Closing my eyes against the sight, I let the remembrances slowly slip back in, hoping they're not damaged beyond repair.

Like my mind.

Like me.

A blurry image begins to form, sharpening until Elena's standing there staring at me, all suspicious scrutiny, anxious about the inevitability of breaking Matt Donovan's heart. So young and innocent, and yet I mistook her for the least innocent creature on the planet. Or one of them, anyway.

I should've known there was no way Katherine could've pulled off that brand of sweet naïveté for more than a few seconds. Oh, I picked up on it quickly enough, but looking back, why would I have ever thought . . .

Doesn't matter now.

 _Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere._

 _You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself._

Brave girl, even then. Even before she knew what kind of monsters walked the same streets as her, gathered at the same bars and parties, attended the same school.

But the true kicker—

 _You want what everybody wants._

At the time, I wasn't sure what possessed me to go down this path with her. Maybe it was her beauty combined with my yearning for Katherine, or maybe I just saw something in her that spoke to me, regardless of everything else.

A connection sparked to life, like the striking of a match. The lighting of a flame.

 _So, Damon, tell me. What is it that I want?_

 _You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, an adventure, and even a little danger._

And that consuming love became ours, complete with passion, adventure, and _more_ than a little danger. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.

A sliver of static interrupts my thoughts, an invisible hand appearing to brush them away like so much clutter.

 _Kill_ , the voice hisses. _Kill again_.

"Fuck off, she-devil," I growl.

I gather my concentration and focus on pushing her out. One hefty mental shove later, she's gone.

For now.

It'll hurt like a sonofabitch when she retaliates and eventually barges back in, but I don't care. I've got more important things to think about.

The image shifts again, a different memory taking center stage—one I created for Elena and me. I'm in my suit and tie, and she's wearing the bridesmaid dress that should've been stereotypically hideous, but instead it's the exact opposite.

 _Just dance with me. This was supposed to be our big night._

Was it ever. I was going to take the cure, be human with her. We were planning to make a life for ourselves, get married, have children—the whole deal. During our rendezvous in the haymow before Alaric and Jo's wedding, she told me she hoped at least one of our kids would have my blue eyes and dark hair.

Funny. I'd been thinking the same thing, only with her looks instead of mine. You know what's better than one pair of big, beautiful eyes the color of rich mahogany?

Two pairs. Maybe even three.

After I deliver the news about the spell Kai used to link her and Bonnie, we hug each other tight, my arm around her waist, her fingers clutching my shoulder. We don't want to let go, but we have to uphold tradition . . .

 _Now, how 'bout that dance?_

Her dress is soft beneath my hands, but not nearly as soft as the skin it's covering. I listen to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the sudden gasp that leaves her lips when I lift her in my arms and spin her around.

As I carefully slide her down my body and set her on her feet again, she asks me if I'm ready to say goodbye. Just for a little while.

No, I'll never be ready. Sixty-odd years will feel like a thousand without her. I can't do it, but I have to.

Somehow.

 _I love you, Damon Salvatore._

 _I love you, too._

I dip her and kiss her tenderly but thoroughly enough so we'll both remember. So we'll both have something to cling to—her in her dreams and me in my waking nightmare of an undead life.

The static returns, jarring me from my memories, and this time, it brings a friend: a ragged, high-pitched screech like dozens of sharp talons dragging across a chalkboard.

 _Kill, Damon. Kill for me_ , the thing demands in its raspy voice. _Now!_

The pain that follows is excruciating, stealing my breath and even my sight for a few agonizing moments. After it gradually recedes, the numbness trickles in in its place, dulling my humanity and the essence of who I am until it all begins to fade away into nothingness.

The evil harpy—or whatever the fuck she is—picks up the sticks that control my marionette-like movements, tightening the strings once more. Soon, I'll be back to doing her bidding, spilling more innocent blood to satisfy the hellacious goal she's working to achieve.

Glancing up at the sky before the stars and the scent of an approaching storm cease to mean anything, I send a plea to my love, my light in the darkness.

 _Please, Elena. I'm so alone. I need you._

The prospect of seeing her again is the only thing I have left to hold onto. I just hope there's some shred of me that's still intact when the time comes.


End file.
